


one love, one house

by ohsun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsun/pseuds/ohsun
Summary: Doyoung spends fourteen days in quarantine, harbouring his crush on Taeyong, his roommate.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 17
Kudos: 398





	one love, one house

**Author's Note:**

> title from: sweater weather by the neighbourhood
> 
> warnings (spoilers): there's some kissing under the influence of alcohol, minor injury/blood, alcohol

**Day 0**

“So fourteen days?” Taeyong says with a sigh, leaning his head against the car window. 

“At least they’re letting us stay at home, and not keeping us in one of those government quarantine pods.” Doyoung says, trying to sound hopeful. They hadn’t been thrilled to hear that upon arrival back home they would need to self isolate for 14 days, but hadn’t expected much else. 

Living together, it made sense that they spent those 14 days together in their apartment - and whilst they’d been living together for over a year, spending 14 days without seeing anyone else, without ever leaving the house, might be a new challenge for their friendship (and for Doyoung’s sanity).

In all honesty Doyoung was just happy to be back home after struggling to find a flight back that wasn't cancelled. For his thesis project Taeyong had wanted to focus on Japanese architecture and thus booked a holiday in Tokyo, and Doyoung had offered to tag along to help out (and take a holiday for himself). Whilst the getaway had been enjoyable, returning home had turned out to be quite the challenge as their timing was impeccable - right at the start of a pandemic.

So despite the promise of fourteen days of self quarantine ahead, Doyoung kind of felt relieved to be back home and see the familiar streets. Taeyong seemed equally unbothered by the prospect of spending the coming 14 days with no one but Doyoung. “Whatever” he’d said to the airport security official that informed them of the self quarantining procedures “I have a thesis to write, it’s not like I had any other plans.”

Whilst university was officially closed, Doyoung has his own work to catch up on - fourteen days of no distractions was probably exactly what he needed after neglecting all his coursework during their holiday. 

So nothing was out of the ordinary when they got home. When Doyoung shut and locked the front door behind them, helping Taeyong to carry his suitcase over the threshold, he didn’t think about how he’d be keeping it shut for the coming two weeks. 

Taeyong had gone into the kitchen and put on the kettle whilst Doyoung sorted through the mail that had piled up during the week. Not much later they sat on the sofa together, each with a steaming cup of instant noodles as they caught up on drama’s they’d missed while abroad. Fourteen days were going to be easy. 

**Day 1**

That next morning Doyoung woke up well rested, realising how much he’d missed his own bed only now that he was back in it. He checked his phone briefly, texting his mother back how they were fine and planning on staying home the coming days just like they were told to. As always she was more worried than necessary, and Doyoung explicitly wrote that they would _not_ be starving, that they had enough food at home and would ask friends to run for groceries if necessary. 

Taeyong was already up, sitting by their kitchen table with his notebook out in front of him, his hair still ruffled from sleep. The Mickey mug that he’d bought at Disneyland was already coming to use, standing next to him on the table filled with a third of coffee and two thirds milk. 

“Morning” Doyoung greeted as he headed into the kitchen. Taeyong looked up from his work briefly, offering a small smile as he returned the greeting. Doyoung poured himself a cup of coffee, staying far away from the milk that was standing on the counter next to it. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Taeyong answered predictably, his focus now returned to his notebook. It wasn’t much different from the past week. The trip had been nothing but work for Taeyong, going on excursions during the day and taking notes during the nights. One evening Doyoung had successfully dragged the elder away from his work, instead surprising him with a trip to Disneyland. Other than that, the days had looked much like this, Taeyong invested in his work whilst Doyoung happily followed him around, taking pictures, getting food and making sure Taeyong didn’t forget to eat and drink. 

He figured the coming two weeks would not be much different, spare the daily excursions and exciting food stall delicacies. 

Doyoung poured two bowls of cereal, placing both on the kitchen table and taking a seat at the other end. He carefully nudged the other bowl in Taeyong’s direction, making sure not to disturb the elder. Moments later Taeyong looked up, murmuring a quiet thank you before taking the bowl, returning to his work.

Doyoung had nothing but admiration for Taeyong’s ability to submerge himself in his work. He was almost a little jealous, wishing he was as passionate about his degree as Taeyong, but as he watched the elder diligently sketch shapes on his notebook there was more adoration than anything else. He loved the way Taeyong was so expressive when he worked, his brow scrunching up whenever he read something particularly complex, putting the end of his pen to his lips whenever he had to think about something very hard, accompanied by the small boxy smile of pride that followed whenever he figured something out, a dimple in his cheek as he bit his lip to write something out. 

He had long ago come to terms with his crush on Taeyong, and settled for admiring from a distance like this (which admittedly was all he could do).

“What?” Taeyong says suddenly. Doyoung blinks quickly, realising the lips that he’d been staring at were moving, speaking, and those brown eyes are looking at him in confusion. “You were staring,” Taeyong points out. 

Doyoung looks away, trying to will away the blush that’s starting to spread on his face. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

Taeyong looks like he wants to say something, mouth opening and then closing again in pause. “You want another?” Taeyong asks as he stands up with his coffee cup, snatching Doyoung’s from the table as well. Doyoung hums affirmatively, thanking the elder when he sets the cup down in front of him. 

“I’ll go work in my room.” Doyoung announces moments later, standing up with his cup of coffee. _I know the light is better here and you need the space_ , is what goes unsaid between them, before Doyoung retreats to his own room. 

++

Doyoung does actually end up doing some university work, only after he lazily scrolls through social media, watches an episode of Suits on Netflix and drags himself into the bathroom to take a shower. When he goes through their living area to go into the bathroom, Taeyong is immersed in his work, taking up all of the kitchen table much like predicted. They both have their own desk in their rooms, but Taeyong needs more space so he usually ends up using the kitchen table or floor of their apartment. 

After sending a final draft of their lab report to Yuta, Doyoung snuggles up in his bed, planning on taking a nap, but instead gets called up by Yuta. He positions his laptop in front of him, Yuta’s image waving at him as he comes up on screen. 

“Hi” Yuta greets. “So how’re you holding up?” 

“What do you mean?” Doyoung asks in confusion. 

“You’re spending fourteen days with Taeyong, after just spending a full week with him.” Yuta points out.

“We live together, it’s fine.” Doyoung says, shrugging. “Besides, Taeyong is working on his thesis so he’s very quiet and busy.”

“ _He_ might be fine, but are you going to be fine?” 

Doyoung bites the inside of his cheek, looking away from the camera. He hates talking about this. His crush on Taeyong was no secret to Yuta, who had been able to figure it out even before Doyoung realised that whatever he felt when he looked at Taeyong wasn’t just friendly admiration, it was something else. 

Yet as casual as Yuta is about this (Ten was much worse, after figuring out his crush by overhearing a conversation between Yuta and Doyoung, he would _not_ let Doyoung live it down), Doyoung still felt uncomfortable talking about it, like his feelings for Taeyong were something private.

“Yeah” Doyoung says, trying to sound casual. Yuta clicks his tongue, a knowing look on his face that tells Doyoung he’s not convinced. “It’s not different just because we’re cooped up together for two weeks, sometimes we spend two weeks inside together and we don’t even notice.”

Yuta snorts. “Yes you two are hermits, but being voluntary hermits and being forced to be just the two of you for two weeks is different and you know it is.”

Doyoung says nothing, and Yuta takes his silence as a key to drop it. “Anyways” he goes on “if you need anything, like food or booze, let me know and I’ll go by the store and drop off some groceries.”

“We’re not allowed to meet other people, Yuta.” Doyoung explains a with a belittling tone and a sigh, fearing Yuta is in fact foreign to the concept of social distancing and perhaps just as dumb as Doyoung had predicted. 

“I know” Yuta deadpans just as impatiently. “I’ll leave them by the door, I just don’t want you to be starving _and_ lovesick.”

Doyoung ends the call. 

++

The day passes uneventfully. Doyoung watches another few episodes of Suits, calls his mother to assure her again that they are absolutely fine, that they have food to last them and enlists the help of friends to supply them with groceries. 

Around dinnertime he ventures into the kitchen, where Taeyong is making stir-fry. Doyoung helps him out where he can and they make smalltalk, but he can tell that Taeyong is stressed by how he sometimes zones out. Even as they have dinner in front of the television, bowls in their lap because Taeyong’s taken up the coffee table with his books, he can tell that Taeyong’s still thinking about work. Doyoung wants to offer some kind of comforting words but knows that it does not matter what he says, Taeyong will want to get back the moment he’s done eating.

Instead Doyoung offers to take care of the dishes, bringing his and Taeyong’s bowl back into the kitchen and tidying up. When he’s finished he sees Taeyong is back with his books, sprawled out on the sofa with the table pulled closer to get a better look. 

Doyoung returns to his room, going through Yuta’s notes on his lab report before a notification pops up that there’s a new episode of Itaewon Class out. Doyoung perks up in interest, suddenly a lot less drowsy as he saunters into the living room. He’s about to excitedly tell Taeyong there’s a new episode out, because that surely will manage to draw his attention away from work, _but_. 

Taeyong is snuggled up on the sofa, his open books placed out on the table in front of him. A soft fuzzy blanket draped over the elder, coating his small form. Only his toes peek out from the very end of the blanket, and his hands are clasped together on which his head is propped up on the pillow. 

Doyoung sighs to himself, taking a moment to look at the sight in front of him. Taeyong looks so young and fragile when he is sleeping. It wasn’t new to him, it was how he had come to know Taeyong after living together for so long. He didn’t know any better than the soft, shy but ever so caring Taeyong, the one currently curled up on their sofa, exhausted from working so hard. 

“Yong-ah” Doyoung mumbles. He’s sure Taeyong is asleep so he likely won’t catch any of it, and makes sure to carefully scoot his arm up under Taeyongs knees, the other one coming around his shoulders. He’s done this before and become quite a professional at soundlessly moving the elder to his own bed, making sure to stay as quiet as possible to let him sleep. 

If Doyoung had been next to him, he’d have bothered Taeyong the moment his eyelids started drooping, not stopping until the elder gave in and went to bed - the elder needed his sleep (now more than ever), and sleeping on the sofa as appealing as it may be when Taeyong was already so comfortable, was not good for his back. 

After putting Taeyong down on his bed he carefully lifted the covers to tuck him in, the elder letting out a soft whine as Doyoung lifted his arms to make sure he was fully wrapped up, Doyoung took a step back to look at him. He only allowed himself one moment, not wanting to stare for too long, afraid it would make him feel more uncomfortable. 

He had twelve days left, there was no need to make it more difficult than it already is. 

**Day 3**

The next morning Taeyong walks into the kitchen in the very same clothes Doyoung put him to bed in. His hair is a little roughed up, eyes red and swollen from sleep.

“Good morning” Doyoung greets. Taeyong returns the greeting in a murmur, sitting down by their dining table. “I’m making waffles, want some?”

Taeyong makes a keening noise, mouth watering at the thought of waffles. “Please” he adds for good measure, and Doyoung lets out a soft chuckle. 

Doyoung knows Taeyong has a sweet tooth that acts up even more when he’s stressed. One of the deadlines of his thesis is coming up and Doyoung knows how hard Taeyong is working on it, so he deserves to be rewarded for his efforts. 

“I talked to Yuta yesterday” Doyoung tells him over breakfast. Taeyong perks up in interest. “He offered to get us something if we need it, like we’re running low on milk and I think we’re almost out of rice as well.”

“That’s awfully kind of him.” Doyoung chuckles. Yuta and Taeyong got along fine, but they like making a point of how they used to be unable to get along. 

“I was thinking we could get take-out tonight, and I’ll ask him to get us something tomorrow.” Doyoung muses on, and Taeyong hums.

“Yeah that’s fine” Taeyong agreed “I uh, have to start working.”

“Yeah uh…” Doyoung trails off. He wants to say something, how Taeyong needs to rest too, how he needs distractions that aren’t work - but he knows the elder doesn’t like it when Doyoung nags too much.

“I’ll take breaks” Taeyong promises, and Doyoung internally sighs in relief. “We should watch a movie tonight when we order take-out.” 

“That sounds good.” Doyoung agreed, again relieved to hear that Taeyong has plans that don’t include working himself into a pulp. 

Taeyong, as promised, takes small breaks throughout the day. He spends most of them on their tiny balcony (a door that opens to a railing), getting a hint of fresh air, or curled up on the sofa with his switch in hand. Doyoung does not bother him, knows that the elder wants to be left alone when he needs to study or focus. Doyoung gets it, because he feels the exact same way. The mutual understanding had been one of the reasons why they’d considered becoming roommates. 

Back when they first moved in together, they’d been nothing but best friends. Doyoung might have some harboured feelings that would make a lot more sense when looking back at it now, but Taeyong has been his friend for so long, the idea of ever being something more seemed ridiculous. They got along very well, were both tidy people and had equally busy academic and social lives. Back then Taeyong had even had an on-off boyfriend, which made the idea that Doyoung had feelings beyond friendly even less realistic.

But when Taeyongs ex decided to cut things off because Taeyong wasn’t giving him enough attention (or some other reason Taeyong did not want to disclose), Taeyong was suddenly alone, single, and someone a very alone and single Doyoung had to come home to everyday. Someone he had dinner with, someone that left him little notes on the counter about leftovers in the fridge, about heading out for groceries after his lectures or just notes wishing him a nice day with a cute doodle on it. Someone he watched his favourite dramas with; someone he snuggled up to on the sofa since it was particularly tiny and difficult to get comfortable on with two people. Suddenly Taeyong was not just his best friend, but the first person he saw in the morning and the last before he went to sleep, an essential part of Doyoungs day - and someone on which he’d once had a small crush, now blossomed into full on infatuation. 

So Doyoung does what he always does, making sure Taeyong gets plenty of water bottles from the fridge, makes him a small snack with his cup of green tea, and drawing the blinds when the sun gets too much and Taeyong is too focused to notice he is squinting. 

Only ten days left, but Doyoung doesn’t think he’ll ever stop taking care of Taeyong.

**Day 4:**

The doorbell rings, causing both Taeyong and Doyoung to look up from their work. They’re sat by the kitchen table, each on one end whilst the coffee maker in the background makes a gentle buzzing noise.

“Oh, that’s Yuta.” Doyoung says, noticing how he has an unread message from said person. This morning he had sent a short text with some groceries they wanted, and Yuta had promised he’d be over in a bit.

Doyoung goes out into the hallway, closing the kitchen door behind him to give Taeyong some quiet. 

“Hi” He says, raising his voice a little to make sure Yuta hears. They’re not supposed to see other people for fourteen days.

“Can you open the door?” Yuta proposes.

“Not really?” Doyoung questions; putting his palms against it instead. “We’re not supposed to see people, I think you should just put it by the door.” 

“Okay, I’ll just wait on the other side of the hall.” Yuta says. Doyoung hears the quiet sound of the bag being put down and waits for a few counts before he opens the door. Like promised, Yuta is standing on the other end of the hallway across from him.

“Hi.” He says dumbly, and he can’t help but laugh. Doyoung returns the greeting, laughing too as he pulls the bag inside. “How are you?”

“We’re fine,” Doyoung says. “We’re not sick or anything, we’re just being decent human beings.” 

“I get it.” Yuta hums in understanding. “So how are _you_ holding up?”

Doyoung sighs and looks over his shoulder to make sure the door behind him is closer. 

“It’s okay.” Doyoung says again, like he hadn’t already assured Yuta of this over the phone. “Yong is working anyways, I just give him food and make sure he doesn’t overwork himself.”

“You dote on him too much.” Yuta says dismissively, and Doyoung rolls his eyes. 

“It’s fine, we’re fine.” Doyoung says, hoping he drops the conversation soon. 

“Well let me know if you need anything.” Yuta says, friendly as ever, but “and let me know if something happens, Ten and I placed bets on how long you two will last before you start fighting or fucking.” 

“Goodbye Yuta” Doyoung says decisively, raising his voice as he slams the door shut. 

When he returns to the kitchen, Taeyong has poured two cups of coffee (his more milk than coffee). He happily takes the bag of groceries from Doyoung and starts unpacking. Doyoung helps him, the two moving swiftly around the kitchen. They’re so accustomed to each other Doyoung can hardly believe they will start fighting (but the latter option doesn’t seem very likely either).

“I miss our friends” Taeyong declares with a small sigh when they sit back down by the table. A cute pout coats his lips and Doyoung tells himself to look away. 

“Yeah, we should invite them over when we’re allowed to have guests again.” Doyoung says.

“We should.” Taeyong agrees. A comfortable silence falls between them, Doyoung looking out over their living room. “I’m so relieved I get to self quarantine with you.” Taeyong then says suddenly, breaking the silence. “Imagine if I had to do this with Yuta, we wouldn’t last a day.” 

Doyoung laughs, knowing well how Taeyong and Yuta can't be left alone, as they’ll be starting an argument in just seconds. It’s a Cancer-Scorpio thing Taeyong says, but Doyoung thinks it’s more a thing of their contradicting personalities. Yuta is bold and open whilst Taeyong is shy and reserved. 

“I’m glad I’m stuck here with you” He says after a moment, looking down at his hands as if he’d just said something shameful.

“There’s no one I would rather be stuck with.” Taeyong answers, laugh evident in his tone but Doyoung can’t help but feel hopeful. Stupid hopeful. 

**Day 5**

On day five of self quarantining, Doyoung thinks he’s starting to go crazy. He hears the sound of the doorbell, ringing out in the space of their apartment. Taeyong doesn’t seem to hear it from where he is sitting across from Doyoung, head bowed down over his notes, so Doyoung thinks that the doorbell ringing might have been his imagination. 

Until he hears it again. This time Taeyong hears it too, looking up in confusion. Everyone they know _knows_ that they’re not allowed to have people over the coming few days, so they weren’t expecting visitors (which they were not allowed either). 

“Oh!” Taeyong exclaims suddenly, dropping his pencil and sitting upright in his chair. “That’s right, I asked Johnny to come over with some books from the library.”

 _Oh_. Doyoung looks back down at his work, gripping his pen. Taeyong seems oblivious to that and slides off his chair, his fuzzy sock clad feet padding into the hallway. Unlike Doyoung, Taeyong doesn’t care much for privacy and leaves the door to the hallway right open. 

“Hi!” He greets excitedly as he swings the door open. Taeyong is normally a hugger when it comes to close friends, and Doyoung can see how his hands bunch into fists as he rocks back and forth on the spot to keep from getting too close. Johnny is standing in the doorway, all tall and broad-shoulders, hair swept by the wind. He looks like a Ralph Lauren denim model with that jacket, and Doyoung _hates_ him. 

It’s not that Johnny is a bad person, or has any features that are even remotely unlikeable - quite the opposite. He is tall, handsome, kind, he has a laugh that makes others laugh as well, and is a very good friend to have - but he is also, unfortunately, Taeyong’s ex-boyfriend. 

The kind of ex-boyfriend that Taeyong is still close friends with because they ended on good terms, and the kind that Doyoung is convinced is still very much in love with Taeyong. They were never that serious, but Doyoung can tell the way he looks at Taeyong when he thinks no one sees (according to Yuta, it’s much like the way Doyoung looks at him except less sickening) that there was and perhaps still is something going on, albeit one sided. 

Most of all, Johnny is just a friendly reminder of what kind of guys Taeyong is into, and a rude realisation that Doyoung is not one of them. He is not tall, funny, sportsy, outgoing and easy to talk to, he is average height (but still a bit taller than Taeyong), brooding, likes to nag when Taeyong doesn’t wear scarves in the winter, easily annoyed and not that into parties or social gatherings exceeding their friend circle. In conclusion, Doyoung is definitely not the kind of guy Taeyong is into, as if their long lasting platonic friendship wasn’t evidence enough.

So Doyoung has no choice but to hate him (even if his reasons are biased) and he tries not to listen to the conversation the two are having. It’s not like it’s any of his business anyways, Taeyong can have his private friendships and relationships that don’t involve Doyoung. 

Johnny was still part of their circle of friends and they saw each other quite often, casually hanging out as friends. It wasn’t awkward between them, as they had assured them after breaking up. Yuta and Ten had been surprised, but Doyoung wasn’t - Taeyong had told him the day before. 

It hadn’t been one of those overly dramatic movie scenes break ups, but it hadn’t been mutual either. Although Taeyong had mentioned before that something felt off about his boyfriend, Doyoung didn’t think it’d be this serious. 

“Like, who even does that” Taeyong had complained in frustration as he leaned up on the counter to get two wine glasses out of the cupboard. “You can’t just break up with someone in public, it’s humiliating.” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that-” Doyoung tries, cut off by the sound of Taeyong popping the cork of a wine bottle.

“I should have never gone out, I knew it was bad news when he asked me out for dinner, we haven’t gone out in ages.” Taeyong whines in frustration. “I can’t believe I got dressed up for him!” He bites out, hands working on the lace choker he has on. “And the asshole has the audacity to order dinner _before_ he drops the bomb, like I’m just going to sit and have a happy fancy dinner with him after he _dumps_ me?!” 

Taeyong doesn’t shut up until he sets the wine glass to his lips and slurps up a mouthful of red wine. 

He pours Doyoung a glass, pushing it in his direction across the table. Doyoung takes the glass wordlessly, a moment of silence passing before he speaks up. “I’m sorry Yongie” is all he says, but the look in Taeyong’s eyes softens. His lips are slightly stained with red wine, glass nearly empty. “You deserve better.”

And of course Taeyong deserved better, Doyoung _knew_ that he deserved better so he couldn’t help but feel guilty and most of all selfish for wanting Taeyong, because Doyoung wasn’t better either. 

“Hi” Doyoung says casually when he steps up behind Taeyong in the doorway. Apparently thinking about Johnny and the way he had dumped Taeyong subconsciously carried his steps into the hallway, right to where he was facing Johnny. 

“Hi” Johnny greets back equally as strained. “I should get going” he concludes. “If you need anything, you can just ask.”

“Thanks.” Doyoung interferes bluntly. “But Yuta’s offered to get groceries for us, I think we’ll be fine.” 

**Day 7**

Halfway through, things start to really eat away at them, at least for Taeyong. It’s a sunday yet the days of the week have long ago stopped being meaningful, and Taeyong works on his thesis day in and out. When Doyoung goes to get a glass of water from the kitchen before he goes to sleep, he can see the light flood out from under Taeyongs door and knows that the younger is not about to go to bed. When he gets up in the morning the coffee pot is already half empty and Taeyong’s sat by the kitchen table buried in his books. 

Taeyong looks tired, today especially so. It’s a little after nine in the evening and they’ve just had dinner and watched an episode of Itaewon class. They’re almost up to date with the show, just two more episodes left waiting for them - but Taeyong looks about ready to pass out. 

“We can watch the rest tomorrow” Doyoung says, untangling his arm where it’s around Taeyongs shoulders to grab the remote and put the auto play function on pause.

“No” Taeyong whines, stretching his arms above his head in an attempt to wake himself up. “I’ll go make us some tea and we can watch another episode.”

Arguing with Taeyong is pretty much pointless, so Doyoung lets the elder get up, snatch the blanket they’d been snuggled up under, and watches as he pours it over his shoulder, carrying it around like a superhero cape. 

Doyoung can't help but smile, his eyes following Taeyong into the kitchen. Soon the noise of the kettle takes over the room, and Doyoung turns his attention to his phone.

“Oh my god” is what pulls his attention back to Taeyong, who is standing on his tippy toes to reach one of the cupboards. “You got chocolate for me?” 

“Oh yeah” Doyoung comments, smiling fondly at how excited Taeyong looks. “I asked Yuta to get them for you, I know how much of a sweet tooth you are when you’re studying.” 

Taeyong makes an impatient whining noise as he tears the wrapper, but then stops and puts it down on the counter. He looks up at Doyoung, and something changes in his expression.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He says, voice suddenly very timid, the atmosphere changing quickly. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Doyoung assures, trying to brush it off, but Taeyong inhales sharply and Doyoung can tell he’s upset.

“It’s not nothing, Doyoung.” Taeyong says with a thick voice. “It’s not just this, it’s the past week - you’ve been so kind to me and taking care of me and I have been a terrible friend.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Taeyong, you’re working on your thesis, of course you’re busy - you know you’d do the same for me.” 

At the mention of his thesis, Taeyong seems to crumble completely. His face falls and he quickly looks away, biting his lip nervously. Doyoung feels a tidal wave of guilt crashing over him because the last thing Taeyong needs right now was to be reminded of his thesis. 

“Taeyong” Doyoung tries as he gets up, the older still visibly upset. “You know I don’t mind doing these things for you, you need it right now.” 

“I don’t deserve it” the elder mumbles, folding the previously broken packaging back shut, and Doyoung’s heart is about ready to break. 

“That’s not true” Doyoung assures as he approaches Taeyong.

“My thesis isn’t going anywhere, and I’m being a bad friend to you - I haven’t been doing any of my chores, and I just” Taeyong falls silent and sucks in another sharp breath. Tears prickle his lash line and Doyoung feels something uncomfortably twist inside him. “I just don’t deserve it.” 

“Don’t say that” he wants to say, wants to say that Taeyong is being ridiculous and that he deserves every little piece of this and _everything_ else in the world, but he can’t say anything because Taeyong starts to sniffle, and before Doyoung can whip out an improvised supportive speech, Taeyong is full on crying. 

Doyoung inches closer into Taeyong’s personal space, wanting nothing more than to hug him and tell him that he’s being ridiculous, that he’s doing well and that he does deserve to have a night off and a midnight snack, yet the elder looks so fragile like this he’s afraid to get too close.

Taeyong seems to deflate the moment Doyoung gets close enough, his forehead falling against Doyoung’s shoulder as he sinks completely against him. He puts one hand on Doyoungs shoulder in an attempt to hold himself up, and Doyoung turns more into his body to hug him back, wrap his arms around Taeyong’s shoulders and let him bury his head in the crook of his neck as he cries. He gently strokes the elders back, murmuring a quiet string of soothing words as he feels the hot tears against his neck. 

“I’m sorry” Is all Doyoung can make out from whatever Taeyong is saying, and Doyoungs heart clenches at how powerless he is in all of this. He knows Taeyong is hard on himself and likes to push himself to do better than his best, and usually the elder has got it under control but the situation they’re in (the fourteen days), all the uncertainty that comes with it and the impending doom of his thesis (which he won’t feel anything but dreadful about until it’s finished and absolutely perfect) and his graduation is probably more baggage than he can carry, and of course Doyoung gets it - it _is_ stressful and there’s nothing he can do about it. He just wishes Taeyong wasn’t so hard on himself. 

Taeyong seems to have calmed down, slowly pulling away from Doyoung who looks down at the stain Taeyong’s tears have left on his white T-shirt. “I’m sorry” Taeyong says again as he follows Taeyong’s eyes, and Doyoung wants to tell him it’s fine, except Taeyong seems so far lost because he just starts crying again and falls right back against Doyoung. 

They collide so hard that Doyoung nearly loses his balance, wrapping his arms back around Taeyong’s shoulders to keep him from falling over.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Doyoung urges, carefully shuffling the two back onto the sofa. He sits down first, but Taeyong follows suit like a leach, clinging to Doyoung’s frame as he lets himself be helped down. Their couch is tiny but they manage to squeeze in on the two seater, Taeyong lying on top of Doyoung almost fully, with Doyoung leaning up against the armrest and Taeyong in turn resting against Doyoung. The elder is still crying, tiny sniffles escaping his parted lips as Doyoung runs a comforting hand up and down his spine. 

Taeyong’s breathing evens out, sniffles turning into hushed breaths. “Thanks” Taeyong finally says in a small voice, leaning up to look at Doyoung. He rubs his red and puffy eyes to try and rid of the drowsiness from his tears. “I’m sorry” he says again, but before Doyoung can object he continues “it’s been so difficult, I feel like I’m not getting anywhere with my thesis. I’m stuck inside all day and I have like no inspiration, and it’s exhausting.”

“You’re doing the best you can.” Doyoung assures. “These are absurd circumstances, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself Yongie.”

Taeyong falls silent, his big eyes meeting Doyoung’s. He suddenly feels so much closer, practically draped over Doyoung’s lap. His hand is resting on Doyoung’s shoulder, right over the tear stained patch on Doyoung’s shirt. 

“You’re too kind.” Taeyong murmurs. Doyoung’s heart _aches_ because Taeyong is so close, so pliant and soft after just crying his heart out and he’s still so beautiful to him. “But you were right” he muses “I am tired, and we should watch the rest tomorrow.”

Doyoung can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he pushes himself to sit upright, Taeyong casually sliding off his lap until they’re sat knee to knee. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Doyoung offers. He folds his hands in his lap out of nervous habit. “Like if you worry about your thesis you can _tell_ me, I’m here for you - you know that.”

Taeyong hums in agreement. “I know” he says, getting to his feet. “The same goes for you, Doie, you can tell me anything.”

He saunters off into the bathroom and Doyoung watches him walk away, looking down at his hands. Well, _almost_ anything. 

**Day 8**

That next day is much nicer. The sun pours in through the curtains in the bright and early morning, scattering all over their living room. Taeyong’s sitting on the floor in front of the open balcony doors, his books open in front of him. He browses the pages as the breeze teases the hair over his forehead. 

Doyoung’s glad he at least said something right last night, because Taeyong greets him cheerfully, even looking up from his work to offer Doyoung a smile. They both work in the living room that day, Taeyong putting on a playlist with soft background music that Doyoung will occasionally sing along to. 

The day is much better because at 5 pm sharp Taeyong closes his books, stacks them up and shoves them away under the table, heading into the kitchen. In the past week, he’s cooked exactly one time, and whilst Doyoung doesn’t mind cooking (or taking care of Taeyong), he knows that Taeyong actually enjoys cooking. After tying up his apron he turns the music up on their speakers and hums along to the music as he goes about to gather stuff from the cupboards. 

Doyoung watches him from the corner of his eye, keeping his book open so he can at least pretend to be reading if Taeyong catches him staring. 

He doesn't catch him staring because Taeyong is completely focused on cooking. After thirty minutes their apartment smells mouth-watering and Taeyong calls Doyoung’s attention.

“Should we eat outside? The weather is still nice.” Their balcony doesn’t get many sun hours, but they’re still in luck and Doyoung agrees - as much as they can’t go outside, they should at least allow themselves this. He helps him move the table outside, their tiny balcony barely fits two chairs and a small table, but they make it work. 

They eat together, making small talk - nothing related to Taeyong’s thesis or any university work until the sun dips behind the building in front of them. It takes Taeyong exactly one minute until he’s complaining he’s cold (which he always his, if their heating bill is anything to go by) and they move inside, getting comfortable on the sofa and settling for those two last episodes of Itaewon class.

Taeyong makes tea and gets his chocolate, thanking Doyoung again, saying that he doesn’t have to do all this but Doyoung can tell how much he enjoys it secretly. It’s all fine, and this last week with Taeyong is going to be _fine_. 

**Day 9**

“Doyoung, did you want to order in tonight? I’ve texted Yuta about groceries but I don’t think he’ll have time today and-” Taeyong interrupts himself by scanning around Doyoung’s room and realising that whilst Doyoung is alone in his room, they are in fact not alone, Jungwoo waving at him from Doyoung’s laptop screen. “Oh, hi” he says awkwardly, waving back at the younger. 

“I’ll be done in like ten minutes, okay?” Doyoung says, and Taeyong nods before turning on his heel and quickly disappearing out of Doyoung's room. 

Jungwoo doesn’t seem phased by their sudden interruption, and quickly turns Doyoung’s attention back to his lab report that he’s looking over, but in the back of his mind Doyoung can’t help but think about Taeyong.

Jungwoo was his sort-of-ex, in the sense that they had definitely been together but never officially, and so they had naturally grown apart and never really officially broken up. They were friends more than anything, and whilst both had been willing to give it a shot and Doyoung had a lot of fun with Jungwoo - it just didn’t feel fair to string someone along, knowing his heart wasn’t in it. 

Jungwoo had understood, and perhaps realised before Doyoung was ready to that it wasn’t going to work out because he could tell Doyoung’s heart belonged to someone else. At first Doyoung had been defensive, regardless of how aware he was of his crush, he was still convinced that it was just that and that by dating other people it would go away, but no matter how much he liked Jungwoo, he couldn’t stop thinking about Taeyong, and it wasn’t fair to Jungwoo. Keeping things on a friendly basis had seemed like the right thing to do.

And Taeyong had been weird about the whole thing. Whilst Taeyong didn’t (openly) dislike Jungwoo, he could tell that the atmosphere was tense whenever the younger came over. At first Doyoung had thought it was just because they didn’t know each other, but as Jungwoo started to integrate in their group of friends more and more, Taeyong’s initial awkwardness hadn’t worn off - if anything, Doyoung felt like it got worse. Taeyong kept staring at Jungwoo whenever he came around, with this undecipherable glare that Doyoung couldn’t pinpoint.

Whenever Doyoung brought Jungwoo up, Taeyong would talk over it and make sure the conversation quickly headed in a different direction. He was so good at avoiding the topic that Doyoung had no choice but to confide in Yuta when they ended things, since Taeyong was so uncomfortable talking about Jungwoo it made Doyoung _himself_ uncomfortable. 

This had sparked one of their biggest fights, Taeyong hearing from Johnny that Doyoung and Jungwoo had officially decided to just be friends. Of course in the most catastrophic series of events, Yuta had told Johnny about Doyoung’s ‘break-up’ and Doyoung had procrastinated bringing it up with Taeyong for obvious reasons, so much that Taeyong ended up hearing it from someone else. 

After a heated discussion with accusations like “don’t you trust me anymore”, Doyoung had apologised and said he didn’t mean to keep Taeyong out of it, but that he just hadn’t found the right moment to tell him, and Taeyong in order had apologised for getting so angry about it and not being there when Doyoung had potentially had his heart broken.

Doyoung had wanted to laugh, because Taeyong was apologising for something he was the very cause of, and still apologising for all the wrong reasons. He _hated_ fighting with Taeyong, so he had quickly assured him he was doing just fine and there was nothing to be sorry for. They’d made up and gone to the movies together (Taeyong’s treat) and after Doyoung had bought them ice-cream, and it was like there never were any cracks in their friendship.

(Save for the massive crush Doyoung has on Taeyong). 

“So, how’s Jungwoo?” Taeyong asked when Doyoung came back into the kitchen. The worst part about this had been that after their break-up, Taeyong had grown to _like_ Jungwoo. In their circle of friends they had suddenly become a lot closer, like the awkwardness had never existed, and Doyoung still didn’t understand. 

As much as Taeyong was an open book to Doyoung, there were still so many chapters he couldn’t read. Perhaps it was better that way. 

**Day 11**

Taeyong had sent in the first rough draft of his thesis today and gotten nothing but positive feedback from his supervisor - which called for celebrations. There wasn’t much they could do, but once Taeyong had told Doyoung about the approaching deadline he made sure to put a bottle of white wine in the fridge for when the moment called for it.

That moment was now. It had been another warmer day, allowing the two of them to sit in the door opening of their balcony, each leaning against one side of the doorway as they worked through the first bottle of wine. 

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we’re allowed back out again?” Taeyong suddenly asks. “Like when this is all over, and life goes back to normal.”

“Hmmm…” Doyoung hums, entertaining the thought in his head. What _would_ he do? The things he misses the most, besides his friends, are restaurants, walking through the park, being allowed to do his own grocery shopping, buying flowers, shopping. “Probably just go out with friends.”

“So you spend two weeks with me and the first thing you wanna do after is go out for drinks with me?” Taeyong teases. Doyoung pokes his toe into Taeyong’s calf, making a face, and Taeyong yelps as he curls up on himself. 

“What would you do then?” Doyoung returns the question, and Taeyong seems to have his answer ready.

“I just want to go out, have a drink, go dancing.” Taeyong says dreamily as he looks out over the buildings. “I miss seeing people, I miss flirting, you know.”

Doyoung can’t help but laugh, it’s so very honest, such a Taeyong thing to say. “You didn’t download Tinder again?”

Taeyong scoffs. Doyoung had made a point of deleting all apps on his phone that could potentially be distracting before the two of them left for Japan. 

“No I haven’t.” Taeyong says, looking at his phone. “It’s not like someone’s gonna magically pop out of the screen, and I’m tired of screens - I want to see real people.”

“Well I’m here” Doyoung says before his brain to mouth filter can catch up him. Luckily Taeyong takes it as a joke, leaning forward to hit Doyoung on the arm as he laughs. 

“You’re like… ancient when it comes to dating.” Taeyong says through his laughter. “I bet you haven’t even noticed that we’ve been locked up for eleven days, you can go without attention for much longer than that.”

“Hey!” Doyoung says, wanting to protest, but the alcohol sort of numbs his mind into the realisation that Taeyong is right. It’s been well over a year since he’d brought someone home (and that someone had been Jungwoo, so it definitely wasn’t the kind of attention Taeyong was implying). “Fine, you’re right.”

“I always am” Taeyong teases. “You want another one?” He asks as he finishes his glass of wine. The bottle is in the fridge, and Doyoung nods, letting Taeyong get up and take his glass with him. 

He returns with two overly full glasses (I wanted to finish the bottle, he would say, he _always_ does this) and instead of returning to his own spot (where he’d placed a pillow on the doorway, because he claimed his ass got sore otherwise), he falls down next to Doyoung in a not very charming manner.

Immediately he fits against Doyoung’s side, leaning against him. He rests his head against Doyoung’s shoulder, the wine in his glass threatening to slosh over as he moves. 

Doyoung knows what Taeyong gets like when he’s drunk, easily flustered, a little dizzy and _very_ clingy. Taeyong always claimed he just needed a little help to stay upright, but Doyoung knew that the other was too shy to admit that he got overly affectionate when intoxicated. 

“Don’t you feel lonely, Doyoung-ah” Taeyong poses after a moment of silence. Doyoung bites his lip, trying to straighten out his back, careful not to jostle Taeyong too much (and have the elder spill wine all over him). 

“Taeyong-“ Doyoung starts, but the elder cuts him off, planting his glass down on the table in front of him. He doesn’t leave Doyoung’s side, resting his head back against Doyoung’s shoulder. “I mean it, it’s been two weeks and I’ve barely even touched anyone.” Taeyong whines with a borderline sultry pout. Doyoung is glad he can’t see it, instead focusing his attention on the empty bottle standing on the kitchen counter. 

Taeyong is tipsy, maybe even drunk and Doyoung knows that the affectionate way he is currently softly rubbing his head against Doyoungs shoulder, is just a product of that. It’s not different from when they go out together and Taeyong ends up half asleep in Doyoung’s lap in the taxi home. 

Except that it is different because they didn’t go out, they’re stuck in their apartment, and Taeyong is not only intoxicated but also touch-starved the past two weeks, which makes his natural clinginess tenfold. 

Doyoung thinks it’s probably a good call to go sit on opposite ends of the sofa and finish their wine (or just tell Taeyong to go straight to bed after drinking a litre of water), but before he can act on this and pick up his glass, he feels Taeyong’s lips against his neck.

His first natural reaction is shock; but it melts away quickly in a hot wave going through him, because Taeyong starts pressing tiny kisses against the column of his neck. Like any other human being Doyoung’s neck is sensitive and it alights a tinge of arousal in him as Taeyong sneakily continues, teeth carefully grazing up and down. 

_Fuck_. Doyoung is so fucked, because regardless of how clingy Taeyong normally is and how much of a difficult time he has separating himself from a (normal) drunk Taeyong that insists they cuddle together, it’s always been just that, _friendly_. Taeyong never initiated anything but platonic touches and Doyoung has never gotten the idea that the elder wanted anything else - but this is different. Taeyong is kissing his neck, one hand on his shoulder, arm stretched across his chest and their hips are pressed together and his breath smells like alcohol. 

_Fuck._ Doyoung thinks again, because Taeyong is drunk and he loves him too much to let him do this, so he moves his arms from where they were resting in his lap, starting to get up because he doesn’t have the strength to push him away right now, he just needs to _go_ , but Taeyong seems to find the newfound space in Doyoung’s lap an invitation. He wastes no time and swiftly moves one leg over, grabbing Doyoung’s shoulders for support as he sits himself down in Doyoung’s lap.

Doyoung exhales sharply in shock, his back pressed against the doorway by Taeyong’s hands on his shoulders, and _fuck_ now he has a lap full of Taeyong. He keeps his eyes down, but can only see the way Taeyong’s thighs are straddling his hips, the soft back of his legs pressing into Doyoung’s hipbones, the thin fabric of his shorts straining. 

“Doyoung” Taeyong murmurs ever so sweetly to get the younger’s attention, and Doyoung still can’t drag his eyes away, not until Taeyong reaches out to grab his chin and tilt his head upwards. Their eyes meet, Taeyong’s wide and enticing and Doyoung feels another wave hot arousal wash over him. He’s dreamed about this so many times, seeing Taeyong like this in front of him, Taeyong looking at him like he wants to devour him, Taeyong kissing him like this. 

It still catches him by surprise when Taeyong kisses him all too sudden and all too rushed, the air knocked out of his chest with a short breath escaping between their lips, but Taeyong kisses him like there’s nothing else he should ever be doing, and Doyoung can't help but agree, let Taeyong’s lips find his and tease reactions out of him as he sits upright, inching forward to get closer, to feel more. 

He feels positively lightheaded with the soft sound Taeyong lets out as he grabs the back of his neck, turning his head to get a better angle. Doyoung’s dreamed about this and spent enough time awake fantasising about it yet the real thing feels so much better than he’d ever dreamed of, Taeyong’s lips soft and giving and ever so addicting. 

Taeyong’s arms wrap around his shoulders, pressing their bodies closer together as he shyly grazes his tongue past the seam of Doyoung’s lips. Doyoung feels as if he might catch on fire the moment he lets Taeyong lick into his mouth, shyly and teasingly in a way only he could. His mouth is hot and wet, the touch addicting but with the sharp taste of Chardonnay and-

It washes over Doyoung like a cold shower: the wine, the empty glasses, the two weeks of seeing no one but each other, the sheer desperation with which Taeyong seems to want him.

 _Fuck._ He shoves at Taeyong’s sides, forcefully pushing the elder out of his lap. The warmth is gone and leaves a faint heated shadow on him and Doyoung feels like he can’t breathe again, but now because of entirely different reasons. Taeyong looks hurt, confused mostly where he’s sat on the floor with spit slicked lips and an open mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Doyoung blurts out quickly in full panic, pulling his knees up to his chest as a defense. “I can’t do this.” 

Can’t do this because I’m hopelessly in love with you, have been for a while, and cannot let you kiss me like that because it means everything to me and it’s just one less lonely night to you and I _can’t_ put our friendship through that, he wants to say, but doesn’t. God no, that would only make things worse. Now that he’s had a taste of what Taeyong feels like, he shouldn’t finish it off with the painful truth that he’ll never feel it again. 

“I’m sorry” he hushes again, hoping Taeyong won’t say anything because he’s afraid he’ll crack at the sound of his voice. He gets to his feet and looks around, disoriented from the way his legs and arms are tingling. His heart is in his throat, forming a lump of feelings and anxiety that he can’t place, much less on Taeyong. 

Taeyong doesn’t look any less confused or hurt, and simply looks up at him from where he’s still seated on the floor, much resembling a child that just had their toy taken away, and Doyoung’s heart _aches_.

“I’m sorry” Doyoung says again, taking a deep breath. “This was a mistake.” He finally gets out, because it _was_ a mistake, but so is his choice of words. 

He’ll realise how much of a mistake it is later when he’s lying in bed, unable to think of anything but Taeyong’s lips and the way he felt under his fingertips and how those few moments had felt like an eternity, because that’s how long he'd longed for it. He will realise how he’ll never be able to _not_ think about kissing Taeyong when he sees him, and how poor Taeyong must feel unloved and unwanted and lonely right now, but there’s nothing Doyoung can do about it because he’s too weak to be a good friend, and his feelings are too strong.

Kissing Taeyong had been everything he wanted, and at the same time it had ruined everything he wanted, because now he doesn’t know how he will ever face Taeyong again, an impossible task living together for at least 3 more days in a two bedroom apartment.

Instead of dwelling on it right then and there, he swiftly turns on his heel, paying Taeyong no attention as he bolts out of the living room. When he shuts his bedroom door behind him, he lets out a sigh of relief, washing over him in momentary bliss, before he feels everything falling apart. 

**Day 12**

Doyoung wakes up, blindly reaching for his phone to turn off the alarm, regretting every decision he made last night. His throat is dry as sandpaper, eyes puffy, head about to burst with a headache. 

It had only been a couple glasses of wine, but last night after storming off he hadn’t been able to do much but curl up in bed, wallow in self pity and eventually sulk himself to sleep. Drinking plenty of water to extinguish an oncoming hangover had not been on his mind. Present Doyoung wasn’t too happy about this, whining into his pillow as he rolled over his back. Maybe if he tried hard enough, the bed would swallow him whole.

That does not happen. Instead memories flood back from last night and he shuts his eyes tightly, trying to will the thoughts away, something he fails miserably at.

He sighs, whining to himself as he rolls over again, twisting himself in the bedsheets. He really wishes he could fall back asleep and forget about everything for a little while, but his throat is so dry and his head hurts _so_ much, there’s no way he can go back to sleep without an aspirin and some water.

An aspirin, situated in their first aid box in the kitchen, on the counter next to the fridge, the fridge where they kept the bottled water and _god_ Doyoung really wishes he was better at planning. Taeyong probably had a whole bottle before he slept, aspirin lined up on his nightstand.

Taeyong. _Taeyong_.

Doyoung feels even worse when he thinks about that, almost like he’s going to be sick. He tries to will the thought away, but it’s just as useless as trying to go back to sleep. At the thought of Taeyong, he vividly remembers last night and he winces in shame, curling up on himself. His head throbs, almost as if the thoughts of Taeyong alone are physically painful. 

He needs that aspirin before his head actually splits down the middle, so he has no choice but to get up.

Before he opens the door he presses his ear to it, trying to listen for any sign of Taeyong. Not that it’s going to stop him, he needs something for the headache _right now_ , he just likes to be prepared. 

If Taeyong is going to be there, being his usual cheerful self, preparing breakfast and humming along to the radio - Doyoung’s not sure how he's going to feel about that. Perhaps they could pretend it hadn’t happened, after all neither of them had been sober - maybe they could go back to the way things were, making casual smalltalk like last night had just been an easily forgivable mistake. Best friends kiss when they’re drunk all the time, right? _Right?_

He inches the door open carefully, and much to his shock Taeyong is actually already up. He’s sitting by the kitchen counter, laptop open in front of him, cup of coffee clasped in his free hand. Doyoung wants to say good morning, wants it to be normal, wants the casual morning routine they stick to, but there’s nothing. 

Silence. 

Taeyong doesn’t even look up from his work as Doyoung enters the kitchen, doesn’t offer to pour him a cup of coffee, does not ask if he slept well - nothing. If Doyoung just pretends hard enough he can act like Taeyong isn’t there at all. If he just goes about his business, gets the water and the pills and sneaks back into his room, then maybe -

Doyoung makes the mistake of looking at Taeyong. It’s just a short glance, Taeyong isn’t even looking back at him, but it’s enough. Enough to make his heart drop. He looks _terrible_ , eyes puffy and red, lips chapped, heavy dark circles under his eyes. 

It shocks him so much that he forgets he’s holding the bottle and drops it to the floor, the crash drawing Taeyong’s attention.

Although it’s short lived, their eyes lock for a moment and Taeyong looks so miserable that Doyoung feels _guilty_ for it. It’s so overwhelming, the sudden feeling of regret combined with his headache, the nausea - he needs _out_ of here.

So he bends down to pick up the water, snatches the whole box of paracetamol and bolts back into his room. It’s not subtle, nor does he think they can ever pretend like nothing’s happened, but at least when he closes the door behind him, he can breathe again. 

As he swallows down the pills one by one, he tries his best to block out the image of a sleep deprived Taeyong sitting by their dining table, but it seems etched onto his vision now. He’d looked so _awful_ , Doyoung had felt nauseous with guilt just seeing him like that. It wasn’t the silent treatment or the tense atmosphere, but the way he’d looked _so_ miserable. 

Doyoung really fucked up. 

++

Throughout the day Doyoung realises that he’s stuck. Stuck in his room, because Taeyong is occupying the kitchen (still, Doyoung has listened for any sign of him moving but there’s none), and as soon as he opens his bedroom door Taeyong will know. Quarantined together with his best friend. Literally and figuratively _stuck_.

Even if he calls someone, Taeyong will hear. Not because their walls are that thin, but because Taeyong is dead silent save for the ticking of his keyboard every now and then, and any noise Doyoung makes is going to set him off, and he’s going to _listen_.

So he settles in bed with a pair of earphones, watching reruns on Netflix whilst his stomach hates him for taking aspirin on it empty. The headache subsided, but he still isn’t feeling great and he decides to open the window in hopes of fresh air being the answer. 

It doesn’t help much, but at least when he sits in the window there’s other sound and distractions, and he basks in the sunlight for a while. Like this, he doesn’t have to hear Taeyong, or think about him in the silence that has become their home. 

Yuta calls not much later, and Doyoung vaguely remembers they’d planned on talking about a lab report today. Again, he hates past Doyoung for making poor choices. 

“How are you?” Yuta asks casually, not realising that he’s asking exactly the wrong question that causes an impromptu breakdown over the phone.

He tells Yuta everything. At this point there’s no reason to play it down, he can say it as it is. He’s in love with Taeyong and he screwed up last night by not being more cautious, by letting Taeyong drink too much and then _do_ too much. So much that he hates himself for ever allowing it, for letting Taeyong be so fragile and for taking advantage of it so easily. 

In short, Doyoung hates not only himself but also his crush and his feelings and the fact that he’s quarantined together with it for another two days.

“Oh Doyoung” Yuta coos, and he just knows by the tone of his voice that he’s screwed up royally. Yuta would never sympathise with him otherwise. “You really think too much.” 

And Doyoung wants to throw his phone, partly because Yuta might be right. 

“He’s your best friend.” Yuta assures. “You can work through this, you just need to talk.” 

_Talk_. That is precisely the issue. Doyoung has forgotten how they do that.

“We haven’t said a single word since last night. I’m afraid to leave my room because I just-“

Because he’s so afraid of seeing how much he hurt Taeyong. How he’s not sure, but the way Taeyong had looked at him so accusingly - the thought alone makes him shiver.

“This quarantaine thing is so stupid, I hate it.” Doyoung bites out.

“I know we don’t say “I told you so” but I’m really itching right now.” Yuta offers, and Doyoung doesn’t even have the energy for a comeback - Yuta is right.

“You can say it and I’ll hang up.” 

“I’m not gonna say it. I _am_ going to tell you to hang up and go out and talk to him. I promise it won’t be as bad as spending two more days locked inside your room.” 

And with that he ends the call. He _knows_ he should talk and he knows that he can’t stay locked in here for two days, but it’s so difficult to say as much as good morning to his roommate, how is he going to say anything else like _I’m sorry about last night I’m actually in love with you and didn’t want you to lead me on_ \- right, he can’t.

Yet he knows Yuta is right and they need to talk. He’d been all high and mighty last night how he couldn’t do that to their friendship and yet here he is, avoiding their friendship and perhaps any attempt at salvaging it. 

++

As much as Yuta is right, and as much as Doyoung _knows_ he needs to talk to Taeyong, it does not mean he will actually make an effort to do so. 

Doyoung waits until he is sure Taeyong has left the kitchen. He’s starving by now, tummy achingly empty save for the painkillers, so he needs some real food. He waits until he hears Taeyong walk into his own room, door falling shut, then peaking through the glant in the door to make sure he heard right. 

Once he’s in the kitchen he gets to work straight away, set on making a proper meal to stifle the hunger from today. He’s busy chopping onions when he hears a loud shout from Taeyong’s bedroom, followed by a string of curses. He drops the knife, whipping around to look over his shoulder, but the door to Taeyong’s bedroom is shut. 

Instinctively he calls out Taeyong’s name. “Taeyong, are you alright?” He asks. It’s the first thing he’s said to him all day, but that doesn’t occur to him right now. Instead bites his lip in worry, _is Taeyong hurt?_

There’s no answer but he can hear Taeyong moving some things in his bedroom until the door opens to reveal Taeyong slowly shuffling into the kitchen.

He is clutching his forehead, but Doyoung can see the red trail of blood dripping from his hand. “What did you do?” He asks in concern, hurrying over to get a better look. He carefully lifts Taeyong’s hand and sees that there’s a jab in his forehead.

“Bumped my head on my desk” Taeyong mumbles in embarrassment, and Doyoung sighs in relief - he’d gone through a variation of worst case scenarios after seeing the blood, but this is overseeable - it’s not the first time Taeyong hurts himself in his clumsiness. 

“Alright, we need to clean that - here, take this.” He grabs a napkin and bunches it up, instructing Taeyong to put it against his forehead. “Go on sit on the counter, the light is better there.” He says, turning to grab the first aid kit. 

It’s not a deep cut, Doyoung observes as he carefully brushes a piece of hair away from Taeyongs forehead. He uses some antiseptic and tissue to clean it, Taeyong wincing as he does. Instinctively he reaches out to grab Doyoung’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly as he shuts his eyes. 

After disinfecting he reaches for a band aid, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and using his other hand to stretch the skin and put the band aid on. Taeyong keeps his eyes shut for the whole duration of it, squeezing Doyoung’s shoulder reassuringly. 

When the bleeding has stopped and Doyoung steps back he realises what he’s just done. 

The need to take care of Taeyong had come so instinctively that he had completely forgotten that they weren’t talking. Now that he’s looking at him, it all comes back and crashes over him again, nervosity falling over him like a blanket. 

“I’m sorry.” Is what he starts with. It just seemed like the right thing to say, with how helpless Taeyong is looking and how terrible he feels. Taeyong still looks equally as tired, and entirely disinterested in having a conversation with Doyoung.

It’s bitter and _hurts_ when Taeyong simply slides off the counter to get to his feet. He had expected it, but watching Taeyong’s back as he walks away tugs on his heartstrings. 

“Taeyong” Doyoung _does not_ plead, and Taeyong stops where he’s walking away. “Can we talk?” He asks shyly, Taeyong slowly turning back around to face him. 

“Look” Taeyong says in a calm voice, sighing as he takes a few steps closer. He stands by the counter at a safe distance, bunching the sleeves of his sweater up in his hands. “I get it, I came onto you last night and you didn’t want me.” Taeyong looks down at his hands in shame. “I’m sorry, I just thought that you…” his voice breaks before he falls silent with defeat, shaking his head to himself. Doyoung’s heart _hurts_ at how devastated Taeyong looks. “I must have misread the situation, and I’m sorry, but I’m embarrassed and I need some space.”

Taeyong, with a band-aid plastered on his forehead, with wide blown eyes and pouty lips staring at him, saying he needs space because he’s embarrassed that he put himself out there when it had possibly been the best five minutes of these fourteen days.

Doyoung wants to cry at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Taeyong, you were drunk, you don’t have to-” apologise, Doyoung wants to say, because he just wants Taeyong to feel better and stop looking so broken. 

“I wasn’t drunk.” Taeyong corrects him, and Doyoung holds his breath. “I knew what I was doing Doyoung, I thought…” his voice wavers again. “Well it doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?” He continues impatiently. 

“No Taeyong, I-” and for all the things he’s said, now Doyoung can’t _not_ speak up. He can’t just let Taeyong go back feeling like this. “I thought you were drunk, I didn’t want you doing something you would regret-”

Taeyong laughs at that, albeit with a sad undertone. “You don’t have to make excuses, I get it-”

“You _don’t_ get it.” Doyoung insists, stepping closer to him. “Look Taeyong, last night…” Doyoung thought he was fucked last night, but now he’s worse off. Taeyong is standing in front of him, even more vulnerable and now he’s got to say _something_ to put him out of his misery, but he can’t find words. A year of frustration, pining, helplessly admiring from a distance are all weighing down on him right now. The turmoil of emotions he’s gone through chasing after something he thought he could never have are feeding the fear of saying something, the silence so painfully deafening, Taeyong looking at him so _expectantly_. 

So he does the next best thing, something he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since last night - he kisses him. It’s different from last night, Taeyong is just as surprised as Doyoung but pliantly melts into it once the initial shock subsides.

It’s different, but it’s good - much better, much more delicate than the sloppiness of alcohol on their breath. Doyoung’s fingertips are tintling where they trail over Taeyong’s shoulders, down his arms until they reach his hands, which he grabs. He slots their fingers together, interlinking them before using the grip to pull the elder closer, throwing all caution to the wind because he’s crossed the line already.

It’s a little bold, and wholly fueled by the newfound confidence in kissing Taeyong, but he breathes into the kiss, pushes closer into the heat of Taeyong’s body and kisses him harder. Taeyong swallows a startled breath, squeezing Doyoung’s hand and licking back into his mouth just enthusiastically. 

He grips Taeyong’s hand hard, trying to ground himself with anything because kissing Taeyong like this is making it so much harder to breathe. Eventually the giddiness Doyoung feels turns into the need for oxygen and he forces himself to pull away long enough to breathe, their foreheads resting together as he says:

“I love you.” 

Taeyong’s eyes fly open as he steps back, staring at Doyoung in disbelief. Doyoung is not much better, glaring open mouthed at what he just said, hesitating to look back at Taeyong’s shocked expression because it makes it all more real.

“I-I…” Doyoung starts, attempting to make an excuse because that just _slipped_ out, but there’s no alcohol to hide behind there’s just Taeyong right in front of him, staring at him, demanding he explains exactly what he meant by that. Doyoung’s terrified because now that he’s said it, it’s out there and Taeyong _knows_ and god there’s two more days of quarantine and he just made it (impossibly) more uncomfortable. He needs to talk himself out of this, but there are no more excuses anymore, not with how fast his heart is beating or how he just kissed his best friend. 

Apparently Taeyong foregoes words as well, diving back in to crush their lips together. It’s different, more desperate and wanting and Doyoung groans as he’s forcefully shoved back against the kitchen counter. Taeyong’s hands are on his shoulder to keep him in place, countertop digging into his back painfully. 

“Doyoung” Taeyong whines against his mouth, trailing one hand up to cup his face as he inches himself closer against Doyoung’s chest. Doyoung is trapped again, this time feeling lightheaded by it. “Do you mean that?” Taeyong breathes against his lips, tilting Doyoung’s jaw down to look him in the eyes.

And when he’s that close, gazes locking like that, it’s so very easy to say it because there’s nothing but _Taeyong Taeyong Taeyong_ on his mind. “Yes.” He breathes, “god, _yes,_ I’m sorry-” He apologises, for what he’s not sure, but Taeyong kisses him again and he’ll continue to make excuses if that’s what it takes. 

It’s rough and filthy, Taeyong gripping the fabric of his shirt like he just wants _closer, closer_ and Doyoung holding his waist to steady himself because it’s so much. His heart is racing right under Taeyong’s fingertips on his chest. It’s so hot and Taeyong is so willing right in front of him and it’s all _so_ much.

“I love you too.” Taeyong says finally in a rushed breath of air as he pulls away. He looks a little dizzy and Doyoung feels a lot the same, leaning back against the counter as he looks at Taeyong because _what the fuck_ just happened. “In case you hadn’t picked that up yet.” 

“Taeyong....” Doyoung says, almost in disbelief. He opens his mouth to try and say something else _how, why, since when?_ But Taeyong seems done talking and instead steals their lips again, this time slow and deliberate. The hesitation is gone, replaced with an innocent yearning as he pulls on Doyoung’s belt loops to inch him in closer again. 

“You mean to tell me we could’ve been doing this the whole time?” Doyoung asks moments later when they’ve kissed for so long they’re both dizzy.

Taeyong purses his spit-slicked lips. “I think… since New Years” he answers carefully, still seemingly hesitant about admitting it. Doyoung _yearns_ to take all that hesitation away, and does so by stealing a short kiss from Taeyong’s lips. 

“Since last year.” Doyoung answers, and Taeyong’s eyes widen in surprise. Doyoung doesn’t care, confident from the rush of kissing him. “Since we moved in together.” 

“You never told me.” Taeyong poses, and Doyoung just hums. “I thought I was obvious.” Taeyong admits then, and Doyoung can’t help but laugh. He can’t believe they’re both this stubborn, and at the same time, he hadn’t expected anything else.

“I thought I was obvious.” He retorts, and Taeyong can’t help but laugh too. 

Doyoung does end up cooking dinner, and instead of taking it back to his room to sulk, they curl up on the sofa and have dinner while watching tv. It’s not much different from their usual routine, except that Doyoung feels giddy with anticipation as Taeyong’s arms wrap around him, their legs tangling together. His head fits perfectly in the crook of Doyoung’s neck, much like it always had - except Doyoung hadn’t realised just how _right_ it had all felt. 

Sitting back with Taeyong in his lap, lazily kissing as something less interesting plays in the background, Doyoung finds it hard to imagine that they hadn’t always been doing this. It seems ridiculous that they spent so many days locked up in a tiny apartment yet so far away from each other, only to now be this close. 

When Doyoung had come back to their apartment twelve days ago, he’d carried that crush like the heaviest emotional baggage, afraid that any glimpse of it would make Taeyong run. In reality they were just puzzle pieces that they could easily fit into their perfectly arranged lives. 

It feels so easy, the way they adjust and grow together in just the span of hours - it’s strange to think that it took nearly fourteen days of just _them_ to get here, and that in the end it was just one weak moment of honesty that landed Taeyong right in his arms, right where he belongs. 

**Day 16**

“Hey, Doyoung. I’m at the store, and they’re out of the vanilla soy milk, are you fine with the banana one?” 

Doyoung clears his throat, detaching himself from Taeyong momentarily to speak into the receiver. “What?” He asks again, still half occupied by Taeyong’s hands gently tickling his side. 

“I said they’re out of the vanilla soy milk,” Yuta explains. “Hold on a minute.” 

Silence falls on the other end of the line.

“How long have you two been staying inside now?” He asks, and Doyoung can almost hear him doing the math. “It’s been more than two weeks!” 

“Well, we were busy-” Doyoung starts to make excuses, but Taeyong starts laughing, overhearing the conversation and realising that they’ve been caught.

“Put on some clothes. I’m coming over!” Yuta says. “And Ten owes me dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have been working on this for so long and instead of just letting it die in my drafts i thought i would post it in all its unbetad glory. i hope you enjoy it.
> 
> twitter: @ohsunwrites


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